


Wine

by OzQueen



Series: babysitters100 [54]
Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Canon Het Relationship, Childhood Sweethearts, Dating, Divorce, F/M, Fluff, Missing Scene, Nostalgia, Post-Divorce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 08:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3112217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzQueen/pseuds/OzQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharon invites Richard over for dinner, wanting to reignite what they had as teenagers - but for real, now, with 24 years of memories, loves, hurts and scars included between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bloodredcherries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodredcherries/gifts).



> A fandom_stocking gift for bloodredcherries - I hope this is what you were looking for!
> 
> A couple of things to note:  
> \- Set during _#18 Stacey's Mistake_.  
>  \- I'm not sure how accurately the seasons/months reflects canon, so apologies if it's really jarring.  
> \- Sharon went to dinner with Richard quite early on in the series, but she also dated other men before she and Richard started dating exclusively.  
> \- Sharon actually does refer to Theodore Gwynne as 'Trip' in canon, so that's what I've called him here. There are some references to Sharon/Trip, Sharon/Jack and Richard/Alma throughout.  
> \- Endless thanks to [isquinnabel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/isquinnabel/works) for putting up with me while I wrote this one. (And for reading over it! You are a star.)

* * *

Sharon stood in the middle of the kitchen, listening to rain falling outside and the wind rattling the loose panes of glass in the window above the sink. The last wet streaks from her mop were drying on the floor, and the house smelled faintly of Lemon Pledge.

It was only three o'clock, and she was lost. She'd kept herself distracted for most of the day by forcing herself to take care of all the chores she'd been avoiding. Dawn was spending the weekend in New York City with her friends, and Jeff...

Sharon swallowed and shook her head. Jeff was back in California with Jack.

The clock ticked loudly in the silence of the house. Sharon pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat with her head in her hands.

 

* * *

 

Sharon glanced up as the lights flickered. It was still windy out; she could hear the barn doors shaking against the wooden beam keeping them closed. The sun was setting behind the clouds. She watched it grow darker and darker outside, and she missed California sunsets.

It would be the perfect opportunity to call Trip, she realized. She had the house to herself. She didn't have to worry about what Dawn or Jeff might think.

He was nice, and good looking, and different. She didn't have any ties to him. She _wanted_ that sometimes. She wanted to know she'd attracted him with whatever she had to offer _now._ That even after the divorce, and the move and the heartache and the homesickness she had, he still saw something in her that he liked.

She pushed her chair out and grabbed the phone, but she couldn't bring herself to call Trip. She wanted quiet company and someone who didn't have to compulsively fill silences. She didn't want the effort of new small talk. She wanted reminiscence.

When Richard Spier answered the phone, she called him Richie, and she only felt a little bit foolish about it. She didn't think it was just her imagination telling her he sounded pleased to hear from her.

“So, the reason I was calling,” she said, a little hesitant. “I – I have the house to myself tonight, and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind keeping me company for a while. With both the kids gone it just feels sort of...” She trailed off, not quite sure how to finish without sounding like she was asking for sympathy. Mary Anne was in New York with the other girls; she could only hope Richard hadn't made other plans for his evening alone.

“Some company sounds nice,” he said, to Sharon's relief. “Perhaps I could pick up some takeout and bring it over? I think Cabbages and Kings have several vegetarian options...”

She felt a silly grin come over her face. “I do like their soy and sesame tofu,” she said.

They agreed Richard would come over in an hour with the food, and Sharon could hear the smile in his voice before he hung up. She was grinning like a silly teenager, but she took a deep breath and told herself to calm down.

She felt incredibly nostalgic when it came to Richard Spier. She'd had dinner with him a few times since moving back to Stoneybrook, and she knew both Dawn and Mary Anne were hoping for a romantic reunion, but she wanted to be careful. For the same reasons she liked dating Trip, she was hesitant when it came to dating Richard. She didn't want to fall back into something comfortable just because it _was_ comfortable.

She changed into clean clothes and hoped the smell of Lemon Pledge hadn't soaked into her skin over the course of the day.

Then, not really understanding what her own motives were, but wanting to be prepared, she grabbed a bottle of wine and stuck it in the freezer so it would be chilled when Richard arrived.

 

* * *

 

Cold air swept through the door with Richard as he came in. The rain was still coming down steadily, dripping off the roof of the front porch.

“Good evening,” he said, but it was with a bit of a rueful smile, and she laughed.

“Isn't the weather awful?” She watched him shrug out of his coat, rainwater gleaming on his cheeks. He hadn't changed much, really. His hair was thinner, and there were a few lines on his brow – but she hadn't escaped the signs of age, either.

Most importantly, he still had the same sweet, genuine smile. She could feel her blood tingling in her fingertips. Impulsively, she lifted herself onto her toes and put a hand against his jaw to kiss him quickly.

Then, so neither of them had a chance to linger on it or get too embarrassed, she said, “I'm missing California today. I hate the rain.” She took his coat, and a deep breath.

“I don't mind the rain, so long as I don't have to be out in it,” Richard answered. He smiled at her again, and she smiled back and took the bags of takeout from him.

“Thanks for coming over,” she said, leading him into the kitchen. “I'm still getting used to everything being so quiet.”

“Thank you for the invitation,” he said. “My only plans for tonight were to sit and worry about Mary Anne being in New York City.”

She laughed and looked over her shoulder at him as she set the bags of takeout on the kitchen table. “I'm sure they're all fine. And don't you have a cat to keep you company now?”

She had never liked cats much, but the thought of Richard with a kitten might be able to convince her otherwise.

“He's sulking,” Richard explained. “Apparently I'm a poor substitute for Mary Anne's companionship.”

“Well, cats,” Sharon said, by way of explanation.

“Cats,” Richard agreed.

“How is Mary Anne?” Sharon asked. She motioned for Richard to take a seat at the table, and she gathered plates and cutlery.

“Growing up too fast,” Richard said. “Just when I think I have an understanding of her, everything changes again and she reminds me I'm still so out of my depth.”

Sharon grinned, understanding completely. “Dawn does that to me too. I'm not sure how I managed to raise somebody so responsible. Half the time I think she's the one looking after me, instead of the other way around.” She set the plates down and hesitated. “I have water and juice in the fridge,” she said, “or there's a bottle of wine, if you'd like a glass? Of course you don't have to...” She trailed off and hoped her face hadn't turned red.

“Some wine would be nice,” Richard said. He gave her that warm smile again, and she smiled back and tried to relax.

“I was glad you called,” Richard said after a moment, his eyes following her as she took down two glasses from the top cupboard. “I've been meaning to call you, but I wasn't sure...”

She nodded and took the bottle from the freezer. “I know. I'm sorry. I've been meaning to call you, too. I didn't want you to think I haven't been enjoying seeing you, but...” She shook her head and sat opposite him. “Jeff went back to California, and it's just been so hard...” She swallowed back the ache growing in her throat.

“I know. I'm sorry he wasn't happy here.”

“Me too.” She sat opposite him and tried to look on the bright side. “Jack says he's back to his old self now, so I guess it was the right decision in the end.” She glanced at the wine and tutted as she realized she'd forgotten the corkscrew. She got up to fetch it. “I'm glad Mary Anne and Dawn have hit it off.”

“So am I,” Richard said, and he held out his hand for the corkscrew as she came back to table. “Who would have thought things would turn out this way?”

She laughed. “Not me.” She watched him pierce the foil around the cork, and she started dishing out the food he had brought over. “How was your Thanksgiving?”

“Oh, we ended up at the Thomas-Brewer household,” Richard said, and she saw the way his face softened into a smile as he remembered. “Mary Anne and I have had Thanksgiving with the Thomases for years. Elizabeth and Watson were married this year, but she didn't want to end our tradition.”

“I don't remember Elizabeth,” Sharon said, watching Richard twist the corkscrew down into the cork. “Did she go to Stoneybrook High as well?”

“No, she and her first husband moved here not long after Kristy was born.” Richard pulled the cork out of the bottle and poured Sharon a glass before he poured one for himself. “I see Arnie Harrison sometimes, and Jim Zibreski still works at the bank here.”

Sharon wrinkled her nose. “I never liked him.”

“Neither did I,” Richard admitted, and they shared a smile.

 

* * *

 

Sharon was torn between falling into comfortable familiarity with Richard, and trying to determine the sort of man he'd become since high school. She didn't want to assume he was the same person he'd been back then, but they'd spent most of the evening talking about subjects they'd covered before; things that were long shared between them. She wanted to know if he had been through so much it had changed him into someone she couldn't find common ground with in the here and now.

She wanted to know whether or not it was going to be worth the fall.

When they moved into the living room after dinner, each of them on their second glass of wine, Sharon decided to ask a question she already knew the answer to, to see if he would open up and start to talk about the more difficult things – what they didn't already know about one another.

“You never remarried?”

Richard shook his head. “No. I never really made dating again a priority. I wanted to concentrate on raising Mary Anne.”

“Well, I think you did a great job,” she said, smiling at him over the top of her glass. “It must have been hard, doing it alone.”

“Not everyone thought I could do it,” he said, staring into the fire. He paused, but she waited, because she knew there was more coming.

“Not long after Alma died, her parents offered to take Mary Anne in, so I could get back on my feet,” he said quietly. “When I finally got myself back together again, they didn't want to give her back. I had to fight for her – it almost came to court.”

Over the years, Sharon's parents had only mentioned Richard a few times. It had always been in reference to big things, like his marriage, and the birth of Mary Anne, and the deaths of his parents. It had been less and less over the years, and never much beyond the attitude of Stoneybrook simply gaining or losing another citizen, rather than anything truly personal.

She didn't have any information to fill the gaps.

“I'm sorry,” she said, and she reached for his hand. “To lose Alma like that, and then to almost lose your daughter, too.”

He nodded. His eyes were still on the fire, but he wrapped his fingers around hers. “Mary Anne doesn't know about it. She doesn't ask many questions, and I suppose I don't encourage her to. It's difficult to talk about what happened back then. I've always been afraid of losing everything again somehow.” He gave her a small smile, like he was embarrassed to admit such a fear.

“I get it, Richard,” she said softly. “I think I'd feel the same way, if I'd been through all of that too. I'm sorry I never got in touch.”

“No, don't be sorry. You were busy with your own family.”

Sharon watched the orange light of the fire play over Richard's face. She had sat in the same place with Trip just a few weeks before. He was nice, and good looking, and she thought she could fall in love with him if she dared to let herself.

But she hadn't called Trip to come and sit with her tonight.

“How did you meet Jack?” Richard asked. He took another sip of wine, and his thumb stroked a line down her little finger.

“College,” Sharon said. “He reminded me of you a little bit at first. Not to look at, just... Just little things he did. The way he organized things and kept track of what needed doing, and when it needed to be done.” She swallowed her next mouthful of wine so fast it made her eyes water a little. “It took a long time to admit a divorce would be the best thing for both of us. I was only going to end up hating him.”

“And you don't?”

“I'm mad at him, I guess. But I don't hate him. Jack's a nice guy. To a fault, at times. I don't think I could ever really hate him, even if I wanted to. I guess I'll always be a little bit in love with him.”

Richard nodded, and she was relieved.

“I had these horrible mood swings when I first moved back here,” she admitted after a moment. “I wanted to blame everyone for the divorce. Including Mom and Dad. When I was a kid, you know – after they sent me to California – I wanted to be able to prove to them it wasn't working out. But it did, for a long time. I went to college, I met Jack, I got a job, got married and I had two great kids... But now it feels like all of it's in pieces.”

“Not all of it,” Richard said softly.

“No, I know. But it'd be nice to have someone to blame for it all. I'd like to wake up the old argument, sometimes. Maybe I should point my finger at them and tell them their plan finally failed twenty four years after they sent me away.”

Richard gave a low laugh, which warmed her from the inside out.

“Twenty four years,” he said. “That puts it into perspective. Was our last summer really that long ago?”

“I guess it must have been,” she said. “It doesn't feel like that long.”

“No,” Richard agreed, and she caught his eye and wondered if he was remembering the same dark summer evening, filled with lingering kisses and whispered promises.

“I thought I'd understand your parents' decision more, at this age with a daughter of my own,” he said. “But I don't. I hope I don't ever cause Mary Anne that amount of unhappiness.”

“The unhappiness didn't last forever. They thought they were doing what was best for me.”

“I supposed I'd like to think I can trust Mary Anne to make the right decisions,” Richard said thoughtfully.

“Well, there's the difference,” she said, lifting her glass for another sip of wine. “I couldn't be trusted at all.”

“Mm, I know,” Richard said, and Sharon tipped her head back and laughed.

“You didn't just say that!” she said, pushing at him.

He just grinned at her and caught her hand with his own, lacing her fingers properly with his. She shifted closer to him so she was right up against him.

“I did miss you,” she said after a moment. “Even after meeting Jack. Even after falling in _love_ with Jack, and getting married, and having kids. I still thought of you sometimes, and I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it gently. “Do you think your parents would object so strongly to me now?”

“Let them try to stop me,” she whispered. 

His mouth moved over her temple; she felt him smile. “You've said that before, Sharon.”

The low vibration of his voice – her name – on her skin made her shiver. She tilted her head so his kiss could graze her cheek. “Don't think they'd object to you,” she said quietly. “And if they did? Well. What could you do, worse than divorce me?”

He kissed her properly then, letting go of her hand to cup her face gently. The fingers of his other hand were still curled around the stem of his wine glass.

Sharon leaned in, opened her mouth a little to touch her tongue against his lower lip. She was full of memories of that last summer – entwined in the grass at Brenner Field, the sun setting low at the edge of the sky, crickets singing as the stars came out.

When their kiss broke and she drew a breath, she hoped against hope she wasn't just hungry for the rose-colored love she could remember. She wanted it again for real, now, with 24 years of memories, loves, hurts and scars included between them.

Richard's brow rested against hers, his nose brushed the end of her nose. She could see the dark blur of his eyelashes; his eyes were closed.

“Richard...” She swallowed and let her lips brush over his again. She wasn't sure how to explain what she wanted. Or what she didn't want.

His fingers traced a delicate path down the side of her neck. Her pulse thumped under her skin.

“I think I have another bottle of wine there,” she said eventually. She closed her eyes and spoke to the dark, hopeful and afraid. “If you wanted to stay a little longer.”

He kissed her again with a smile. “That sounds nice,” he murmured. “Do you think it will matter if we break curfew?”

She laughed. “It was always me breaking curfew. It's about time you started.”

He grinned at her and kissed her again.

 

* * *

 


End file.
